"You think he's suffered enough," Zendile said, a statement, not a question.
His voice was just as frigid as before. His bright green eyes didn't move
from the sinner, who was now nothing more than a pathetic wretch, sobbing
uncontrolably. "The ones he hurt, how much have they suffered? How much has
his selfish pleasure hurt them?"

The flames dissapeared, as they had never existed, and Zendile walked up to
the wretch and lifted him by the collar from the ground. "Zendile!" the
Soldier said.

"Please..." the sinner said. "Please don't hurt me..."

Zendile stared into the sinner's eyes. "Never go near any of those girls
again," he said. "Or I'll come back." He threw the human to the ground, and
walked away. The Soldier followed him, out the door of the man's apartment.

The human grabbed his arm, his face flaring with anger. "You could at least
shown some remorse...some sympathy!"

"Sympathy?" Zendile turned his face toward his companion. "Do you understand
that the very emotions he leaks into the Symphony is part of my very being?
That I punish those like him knowing this?" The angel closed his eyes, as if
regret. "The only thing keeping the flames of his emotion from consuming me
is knowing those he has harmed may yet heal."

The Soldier lowered his head and looked at the pavement in shame. "Don't
feel ashamed," Zendile said. "You have much yet to learn. Unfortunately, you
will become used to these punishments. The cruel are everywhere, and it
seems each one that is burned only has two more rise from their ashes.
Tomorrow you should visit his victims in the hospital, then talk to that
servant of Khalid's to see if that Balseraph has left behind any trace of
his activities."